A Lesson in Power
by Dark.Lueta
Summary: Volmione drabble I wrote 2 years ago that I'm thinking of expanding. Post-war, VERY AU, Hermione has gone to the dark side and is unapologetic.


Lord Voldemort gazed across the converted ballroom without bothering to hide his contempt. How difficult could it be to learn a simple Abscindo curse? Even with the extra duties Hermione had developing her curses and in the potions lab, she should have learned this curse by now. He had given her his copy of Helywm's Night Magicks a month ago. Surely that was enough time for one bit of dark magic. Yet there she stood, alternating between glaring at him and waving her arms about like she was being attacked by flutterby moths. The Dark Lord felt a smirk cross his face as he remembered the day that the moths Snape kept in the potions store got loose. She hit MacNair with an Aestus curse for laughing, simultaneously giving him third degree burns and a pelting by singing moths. The smirk left his face as he saw her curse fail, again. He rose from his throne and began to cross the great room. He would have to to teach his Lutea a lesson, it would seem.

Hermione glanced across the ballroom and quickly turned away to hide the smirk on her face. She had known he wouldn't be able to resist the lure of teaching strongher/strong how to properly cast an Abscindo curse. Brightest witch of her age and all that. Her smile died as she looked down at the pathetic man cowering at her feet. What was his name again? Merflyn? Martin? Goddess only knows. Her lip curled as she remembered the word he tried to wound her with. Mudblood. Hadn't she outgrown that particular insult? It was insulting, really, the lack of creativity Marv displayed. There were so many other names she now wore proudly. Traitor. Murderer. Mistress. She wanted to do more than just break this insipid wizards bones. She had just developed a lovely curse that would let him know how it felt to be a mudblood. Well, for the few painful moments one can survive with mud in your veins, anyway. Hermione giggled as she imagined Melvin writhing on the floor like the prisioners she had tested her curse on.

'Do you enjoy failure, Lutea? Or maybe you just find ineptitude amusing?' Voldemort hissed in her ear. 'I cam assure you that I have no desire to waste my time watching you fail to cast a simple curse.'

Hermione snorted and squared her shoulders. 'Whatever do you mean, my Lord? You barged into my private affair, demanded that I use a curse you know I have no interest in, then decided to stay and watch. It would appear to me that this is exactly how you want to waste your time.'

Voldemort glared down at Hermione, his magic blazing black and static all around him. Hermione released her magic, sighing as she felt it melt with his, relishing in the electricity that ran through her. His hands clenched as he felt her magic singing to his, dancing around him, her darkness matched perfectly with his own. She was magnificent, his Lutea, but she couldn't be allowed to forget who was Lord here.

'I am aware that only 7 wizards have managed to successfully cast this spell. So allow me to help you'. He mouth morphed into what passed as a grin and he raised his wand. 'Imperio'. Lord Voldemort smiled as he watched Hermione sag slightly, as though her marionette strings had been loosened. He began to guide her through the complex wand movements when suddenly her arm fell to her side.

'You know that spell no longer works on me, Voldemort,' she ground out, ' and I'm offended that you even tried.'

'I apologize for nothing, Lutea, as you are well aware,' Lord Voldemort replied, unaffected by her ire. 'However, the wand movements are fairly complex. Maybe you require a more hands on approach?'

Lord Voldemort smirked as he waved his wand and saw Hermione being propelled backwards into his arms. He pressed his chest against her back and wrapped his thin fingers around her wrists. He spoke slowly, coaching her through the intricate motions.

Hermione barely suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine and straight to her core as Voldemort wrapped his fingers around her wrists, deliberately brushing against last night's bruises. He guided her slowly through the simplistic motions, and she knew she had won.

'You know I always get what I want in the end, my Lord,' she whispered, feeling Voldemort release her. He gazed down at her, seemingly unamused.

'Show me what a good student you are, Hermione. Let me reward your studious behavior,' he breathed, his voice dark and thick with promise as he stepped back to straighten his robes.

Hermione glanced down at Maldryn (that was it!), who still cowered on the marble. She raised her wand and cried 'Coenum!'

Lord Voldemort glared down at her and reached for his wand. Before he could raise it fully, Hermione glanced over her shoulder and purred up at him 'So sorry my Lord. I guess I'll need a few more of those lessons.'


End file.
